More Than Anything

Donut looked out into the canyon. He watched Simmons and Grif pass each other wordlessly down below and frowned. Ever since Simmons had gotten Grif drunk, conversation between them was incredibly minimal. Donut was surprised that Sarge didn’t suspect anything.



The flash of sun against metal on the cliffs caught his attention. He couldn’t see very well, but he thought it was Church. Yes, there was the sniper rifle. Donut stood and replaced his helmet, making his way to the blue’s side.



“Hey.”



“Donut? What the hell are you doing?”



Church frowned before remembering that Donut couldn’t see it. “I-is Tucker here?”



“No. He’s back in the base.” Church glanced down. “How’s Grif?”



“Avoiding Simmons.” Donut said honestly. “He’s been limping since he came back this morning. Your doing?”



Church grinned. “That’s my work.”



Donut sat behind Church, out of sight from the canyon floor. “You two are fine then…?”



“Yeah.” Church said shortly.



“Sorry.”



Donut waited as Church looked down into the canyon. “Has Simmons….?”



“No. I think he learned.” Donut murmured.



Church turned to him. “It doesn’t make any sense.”



“What?”



“I hate Simmons. Completely. But I feel bad for him.” Church’s eyebrows furrowed. “Grif could stay with him every night, but he chooses to sneak away to me.”



Donut chose not to tell Church that Simmons had said almost the exact same thing.



Church‘s helmet was placed beside Donut. “You really do care, don’t you?”



The blue C.O. whispered. “Yeah… It would be easier if Simmons wasn’t here, if he didn’t made me fucking feel bad.”



The private sighed. “I don’t know what to say, Church.”



“I don’t know what to do anymore.” The older man admitted.



“You just want him to be happy.” Donut said. “You’re allowed to be a little selfish.”



Donut tried to tell Church without saying it. He wanted them to stay together. Grif was happy as it was. If Church called it off…



“I am.” Church assured him.



The pink soldier smiled. “I never thought I’d be glad of that.”



Church was frowning. He leaned against the cliff face beside Donut, deep in thought. Donut looked up at him nervously.



“Maybe I should…” Church muttered. He looked to Donut. “Does Grif… love Simmons?”



“No.” Donut said immediately. He didn’t even think, he didn’t have to. He didn’t care if it was a lie.



“You’re just saying that.”



“No! I mean it!”



Church smirked and replaced his helmet. “Mind telling Grif to come over later on?”



Donut smiled in relief. “Sure.”



Church headed off of the cliffs. Donut watched him go before doing the same.





*



Grif saw Simmons walking down the hall and turned into the kitchen. He waited until the maroon soldier had passed before continuing into the bathroom. He sighed and closed the door behind him.



Simmons watched Grif avoid him deftly. He sat on his bed, tears welling in his eyes. God, he had fucked up bad. He looked at Grif’s bed. Grif went to bed after Simmons was asleep and was out of the room before he was barely awake. Sarge had noticed that much, that Grif was no longer sleeping all the time. That was a surprise, even if he didn’t understand all that was going on.



Simmons heard Grif’s footsteps outside the open door. By the time he looked up, the orange soldier was gone. How long would this last? Simmons wanted to apologize, but as long as Grif wouldn’t let a word pass between them.



Maybe Donut could help him.



He made his way to the private’s room quietly. When he was right outside the closed door, he heard Grif’s voice inside.



“That’s what I’ve been doing!” he insisted.



His companion disagreed. “No, you’ve been avoiding him. That’s not the same thing.”



“What more do you expect me to do?” Grif demanded.



“Tell him, for crying out loud!”



Silence met his words for a moment, and then Grif whispered. “I can’t do that. You know it.”



“No, I don’t know it!”



Even from outside the door, Simmons could tell the occupants were becoming angry. “…You told him, didn’t you?”



“What does it even matter? What would you expect me to do?” Donut was crying.



Grif asked. “Donut, why did you tell him to do anything about it?”



“I told him to tell you.” Donut murmured.



Simmons opened the door then, tired of listening in. “It’s not Donut’s fault, Grif. I’m sorry.”



Grif turned away from the door and Simmons. “I have to go, Donut.”



Donut sighed. “Grif, you really should-“



“I. Have. To. Go.”



Donut looked down. “Go, then. He’s waiting anyway.” He muttered.

Simmons watched Grif leave through the window, not even caring to use the door. That would involve being within three feet of the maroon soldier.



“Donut?” Simmons asked hoarsely.



“Simmons, I’m sorry.” Donut whispered, not looking at him.



“No.” Simmons looked after Grif. “I need to grow up.”



Donut looked at him in surprise. “What?”



Simmons blinked away tears. “I told you. Fuck it, man.”



He turned to the door. “I’ll see you later, Donut.”



Donut frowned and lay back. What was Simmons talking about? He heard a clattering and looked over.



“Oh, hey, Tucker.” Donut moved over as the blue sat down.



“What’s wrong?” Tucker threw his helmet to the floor and began stripping the rest.



“Oh, nothing, I just messed everything up.” Donut cried.



Tucker finished swiftly and held Donut to his chest. “No, it’s not your fault. They’ll do their own thing.”



Donut sniffed. “That’s not the way I see it.”



Tucker kissed him. “You see things wrong.”



The pink private chuckled weakly. “Not everything.”



He looked up at the other with large eyes. “I-I don’t see this wrong, too…. Do I?”



Tucker’s heart felt as if it were falling to the floor and shattering. “No, Donut, I- I love you, Donut.”



Donut wiped his eyes with one hand. “I love you, Tucker.”



Tucker pulled Donut into his lap and sat in silence.



*





Church placed the last piece in the puzzle, to Caboose’s delight. “Good job, Churchsir!”



The rookie grinned at his superior, who was anything but smiling. “Yeah. Great, Caboose.”



They heard the footfalls echoing through the base. “Is Tucker back?” Caboose asked.



“No, he won’t be back until…tomorrow…” Church jumped from the floor.



“Church?”



“Grif?” Church smiled.



Grif shuffled into the kitchen. He smiled at Caboose, who seemed rather put out. Church stared at a point over Grif’s shoulder.



“Church? Is something wrong?”



Church frowned. “No” was his quick answer.



Grif wasn’t convinced. Church pulled him into a quick kiss before kneeling to help Caboose put the puzzle pieces back in the box.



“Churchsir?” Caboose questioned as Church handed him the closed box. “What are you going to do?”



“I have to talk to Grif, Caboose.”



Caboose glanced at Grif and nodded. “I’ll be in my room, okay Church?”



“That’s fine, whatever.”



Grif finally had Church’s complete attention. Or vice versa.



“Grif, listen, I,” Church let off.



“I don’t love him.”



“What?”



“Donut said I should tell you. I don’t love him.”



“How reassuring.” Church said sarcastically.



“Stop being an asshole for one minute.” Grif said miserably.



Church gripped Grif’s shoulders. “Listen to me. Are you happy with this? Think about how it fucking started!”



Grif looked at him levelly. “I remember it very well, Church. Believe me when I tell you that I think about it a

lot. A fucking lot, because I always want to go back to it.”



“…What?”



“I wish we could start over.” Grif swallowed. “Then maybe I could fucking do it right, and we wouldn’t have to argue like this!”



Church felt weight lift off of his shoulders. Wait, what? Why was the weight there in the first place?



“I thought you were about to say that you regretted the whole thing.” Church muttered as he released Grif.



“No. If anything, I don’t regret it.”



“If anything?” Church caught on to that part.



Grif smiled. “Teasing.”



Church grinned. “Alright, if you say so.”



Grif said cockily. “Well, I do.”



A single growl was Grif’s only warning before they were tearing to the C.O.’s room.



*





Donut blinked blearily. “Tucker?”



“Nhah?”



“Can I sleep now?”



“Go ‘head.”



“I kinda can’t breathe here.”



Tucker rolled off of him. “Hmph. Fine.”



Donut smiled. “Good sleep.”



“You too.”



Neither of them heard Simmons walk through the halls aimlessly, looking for something… anything. He was lonely, especially after having to listen to Tucker and Donut through the wall for the past hour.



“Simmons?”



“Yes, sir?” he asked tiredly.



“You alright there, soldier?”



Simmons looked at Sarge warily. No, he wouldn’t sleep with his superior, no, he wouldn’t…



“Yeah.” He lied.



“You don’t look it.”



“Sir, leave me alone.” Simmons flinched. So much for being able to say it politely.



Sarge gripped Simmons’ arm. Simmons looked at him again. Maybe he would.



*







Grif yawned. “Church.”



“Go to sleep.”



“I’m staying here tonight.”



“I know. Now go to sleep.”



Grif kissed Church’s shoulder. It would be okay. Sure, things between him and Simmons were rather… shaky, if one wanted an understatement. But it would heal with time. Grif was preoccupied with Church, anyway.



“Chu-“



“Go to sleep, for the love of fucking god!”



“Gods fuck?”



Church glared at him. Grif grinned and snuggled against him.



Yes, it would be okay.